


The Wedding Mission

by ddagent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance, Undercover, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7851334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For their first undercover mission as SHIELD Agents, Phil and Melinda go undercover as a couple planning their wedding. Part of the ‘Philinda Undercover Challenge’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Mission

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoy this story! Huge thanks to @nessnessquik who was able to read through the raw version and give me feedback. This story fits in with the backstory established in House Arrest, but stands alone too. Enjoy!

Maggie Lin and Steven Tracey were a _wholesome_ All-American couple, supported by their parents’ money and a rich education. Along with that costly education came the Manhattan penthouse, the expensive diamond engagement ring, and the dream wedding that Maggie and Steven had always dreamt about. They were young, rich, and in love. They were also complete fabrications.

Melinda May adjusted the string of pearls around her neck, staring into the mirror above the dresser. The lavish bedroom, with a balcony and a four poster bed, was larger than her entire apartment back in D.C. Maggie wouldn’t be seen dead in that shoebox. Rich, spoilt Maggie with a penchant for pencil skirts and designer blouses. Melinda had seen the clothing allowance invoice for this operation: more than two months’ rent. She’d always disliked dressing up in other people’s clothes. Especially when it made the real her feel worth shit.

“ _Wow._ You look-“

“Like a fool.” Melinda fiddled with the string of pearls again, adjusting how they lay against her neck. She threw a glance over her shoulder, the corner of her mouth picking up as she saw Phil. “Suits you.”

Phil’s alias was Steven Tracey _,_ a recent law school graduate and a former athlete. He wore neatly pressed slacks and a dark blue sweater; his fraternity ring nestled tightly on his left hand. He looked like every rich asshole who had ever hit on her in high school; every college douchebag she’d hustled at pool during off hours at the Academy. At least Melinda knew that there was a good man behind that charming smile.

“I mean it, you know,” Phil said, joining her by the dresser. ”You look _amazing._ Beautiful, successful. You look the part. We’re both going to ace this.”

Melinda nodded, her smile faint, as she abandoned Phil to sit on the edge of the king sized bed. She tried to recall the etiquette her mother had attempted to instil in her – and the advice Peggy had given her – but nothing came to mind. Her palms felt clammy, and Melinda wiped them against the dark fabric of her pencil skirt. The lipstick she wore felt sticky against her mouth. _They’d covered this in the Academy._ She’d obtained top marks. But this wasn’t a simulation; this wasn’t a test. This was a real mission. _Their first undercover mission._

Caught in her own thoughts, Melinda barely heard the sound of the buzzer. She only realised the mission had begun when Phil came back into the room. “She’s on her way up.”

Bobbing her head, Melinda stumbled to her feet. _Stupid heels._ She joined Phil by the doorway, surprised when his hand found hers. Skin stuck to skin; both of them as nervous as each other. But they had made it through the Academy together. They had made it through the events of Sausalito together. They could do this too. Melinda felt that confidence build with every step towards their target. She felt the pearls against her throat, the slight bite of the engagement ring on her finger. She _was_ Maggie. Just as they reached the door, Melinda lifted her hand and wiped a splash of coffee from Phil’s bottom lip.

“There we are. _Perfect._ ”

And they _were_ perfect. Maggie and Steven wouldn’t settle for anything less. Melinda slipped an arm around Phil’s waist, pressing the other one to his shoulder as he reached for the door. On the other side was their target. Deborah Wren was Manhattan’s most exclusive wedding planner. She had contacts with all the finest florists, caterers and venues, and she’d assisted everyone from socialites to celebrities with their big day. She was currently planning the wedding of the daughter of a notorious arms dealer. SHIELD had limited information on the man, and the wedding planner was their only access point.

As new recruits, fresh out of the Academy, they’d drawn the short straw. An elaborate distraction, whilst a team raided her offices. As such, they had to put on quite a show.

“You must be Ms Wren; it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Phil shook her hand, putting on that boyish smile that charmed everyone from SHIELD cadets to little old ladies. “May I take your coat?”

Wren smiled, baring teeth, as she slid out of her jacket and passed it to Phil. “Thank you, young man. What a charming apartment!”

“Thank you! It was an engagement gift from my father.”

In reality, the penthouse was a decommissioned SHIELD safe house that was now used for the occasional undercover mission. It was filled with expensive looking furniture from thrift stores and art pieces that SHIELD had confiscated over the years. There were photographs too: smiling portraits of her and Phil; a shot of Phil wearing a windbreaker whilst sailing; a framed picture of Melinda and her sorority sisters. The only real photographs in the entire apartment were of a young Melinda with her butt on the ice and a strip of photo booth pictures from their day out to Coney Island.

Wren peered around the apartment, examining each detail with care. Every new client was a mark for or against her reputation, and she was well known for her extreme vetting. She seemed pleased with what she saw as she took the offered seat. Melinda sat down first, back straight against the antique couch and her ankles crossed. Her hands rested clasped atop her knees, showing off the stunning engagement ring on her finger. Phil took the space on her left, hand pressed against the small of her back. She felt his thumb graze her spine. She appreciated the reassurance.

“May we get you anything? Tea, coffee, a glass of mineral water?” Melinda asked; painting on a wide smile as the pins in her hair dug into her scalp.

The wedding planner nodded, smiling at the tea set in front of them. “A cup of tea with a twist of lemon, thank you. You know, I was very intrigued when I got your father’s call. I thought I knew everyone in New York.”

A brand new cover was unavoidable; they had no time to build a solid one. Phil just stuck to the script as he poured Wren’s tea, smiling at her over the china. “Maggie was raised here before her family moved to Boston. It seemed like a wonderful city for us to start our future together.”

“It truly is a wonderful city.” Wren took a sip of her tea. “Now, this is just a consultancy meeting. There are no obligations, no contracts. Just an informal _chat_ to see if you like me, and if I like you. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourselves?”

Wren had already vetted them both carefully. Melinda wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Holes, perhaps. Melinda just leant forward, pink lips pinned into a smile, as she recited the moment they first met. “Well, we met in college. Steve, _here,_ was studying History before going into Law. I was studying business. We met in the library one day, both waiting in line at the coffee shop. I dropped my books, he picked them up. Two days later he’s picking me up for dinner.”

They both laughed; Wren’s polite chuckle muffled under theirs. Phil’s hand reached up to clasp her right shoulder, pulling her into his chest. His lips met hers briefly, a chaste kiss in front of company. It was over too quickly, yet it seemed to linger. The pressure of Phil’s mouth against hers; the twist of her stomach at the taste of coffee on his skin. They hadn’t shared a kiss for six months. Not since graduation. As Melinda lifted her hand to her mouth, the cold band of the engagement ring pressing against her lips, it occurred to her how _natural_ it felt for Phil to kiss her. How unnatural the last six months had felt when he hadn’t.

Phil squeezing her knee brought her back to the present. Despite his earlier nerves, Phil was having a _ball._ She felt like all the saccharine would lead her to revisit her breakfast burrito. 

“It took me three dates to know. Three dates to know I’d be crazy to let her go. And she’s stood by me, all through law school. She is my rock, my angel. She is my guiding light.”

“You two seem very much in love.”

Melinda turned from Phil to address Wren, putting on the first sincere smile she’d worn all day. “He’s my best friend. I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Wren seemed oblivious as she sipped her tea. But Phil stared, _beaming,_ so sincere in his affections that Melinda felt her cheeks turn pink. She squeezed his knee cap, sharing a look that seemed to say _I think this is going well._ They could sell themselves as a convincing couple. Melinda was almost starting to believe it herself.

“Now, your father told me the wedding date.” Eight months from now, a beautiful spring wedding. “Your parents will all have different ideas about how they want the wedding to be. I want to hear from _you._ What’s _your_ dream wedding?”

Phil choked for the first time since Wren had arrived. They hadn’t discussed any of this in their mission briefing. Phil’s dream wedding would probably involve a three tiered red, white and blue cake. But Steven’s? _No idea_. So Melinda jumped in.

“I’d like something _traditional._ ” Melinda patted Phil’s hands, trying to put as much love into her eyes as she could. She found it easier than she thought. “Neither of our families are especially religious, but I’d like something that _feels_ traditional. The perfect dress, two little flower girls. A big band playing at the reception.”

Phil nodded along, building on Melinda’s description. “Absolutely. We’re young, but we see ourselves as a traditional young couple. For instance, the bachelor party will be nothing more than good steak and fine cigars. None of these… _sleazy_ establishments that seem to be so popular these days.”

Wren took out a moleskin notebook and began jotting down their ideas. “So few young couples have such traditional values these days.”

“Oh I _agree,_ ” Melinda said, bobbing her head. “We attended a wedding a few months ago – Jules’, do you remember? – and by _god_ if it wasn’t the most dreadful event we have ever attended. They served a _buffet,_ and then had _a rock and roll_ band playing the reception. We’re not in college anymore, you know?”

“Of course, of course.” Wren made another few notes. “We can discuss venues in more detail at another time, but I assume you want to get married in the city?”

They both nodded, grinning. “Oh absolutely. _Someone…_ ” Melinda gestured in Phil’s direction. “…is determined to get married at the Plaza. But I told him that you’d know all these _incredible_ venues. Somewhere that’ll be just _perfect_ for our big day.”

“I like the Plaza!” Phil chuckled, leaning back to make his point. “So sue me!”

“You’re the lawyer, darling, you’ll _win._ ”

They all laughed, although Melinda noticed right away that Wren’s was hollow. She decided to amplify her uncomfortableness by stealing a kiss from Phil’s lips. Light, innocent, enough to make the back of Phil’s neck go red. Melinda bit her bottom lip to stop herself from leaning further into the kiss. _She was_ _Maggie_. Maggie didn’t believe in great displays of public affection. She had probably kept things PG-13 until the engagement. _Traditional girl, traditional values._

As Melinda pulled away, they both watched Wren swallow down some of the bile gathering in her throat. They were putting on quite a show. _We’re nailing this._ “So, yes, a traditional wedding is what we’re after. A beautiful venue, an elegant reception. We’ve also been talking honeymoons – Steven’s father said you could recommend destinations?”   

“Absolutely. A lot of young couples these days are travelling through Europe on their honeymoon. I’m sure finding an exquisite resort won’t be a problem with your finances.” Wren consulted her notes before looking up at the pair of them. “This is not always a pleasant topic, but I think it’s best to discuss this during the initial consultation. Your _budget._ ”

Phil nodded, leaning forward in his eagerness. They’d both read the cover story – although Maggie’s family were wealthy, Steven’s parents were paying for the wedding of their only child. “Well, Ms Wren, money is no object. This is going to be the best day of our lives; I want everything to be _perfect._ ”

Wren enjoyed her fee, a commission from the vendors and venues, and often used third parties to blackmail her clients. Both of them had believed that a _no budget_ approach would draw her in. The twitch of her mouth suggested otherwise. So Melinda gritted her teeth, patting Phil’s knee like she would a disobedient child. “I thought we discussed this the other night with your father, Steven. It seems _silly_ to waste so much money on just one day.”

Phil pinned back his mouth in an overtly fake smile, catching on. “ _Angel,_ I just want this day to be _perfect. Magical._ ”

“I know. But it’s just _one day._ I don’t want us spending silly money on an ice sculpture of two swans when that money could go to better causes.” Melinda patted his knee, turning to Wren. “I’ve recently taken over my mother’s charities. We’re supporting so many good causes here in New York and a number of third world countries.”

Wren nodded along, taking another sip of her tea. “Noble causes, each and every one. You’re a smart young woman, Ms Lin. A budget is very important when it comes to a wedding. It can be _lavish._ But too much money can lead to… _tackier_ affairs. You cannot buy good taste.”

Melinda beamed. Her face was staring to hurt from all the smiling. “I completely agree. So we’re decided.” She patted Phil’s knee once more, and her partner shrunk back into place. “I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with an adequate number.”

“Fine, _fine._ ” Phil suddenly wrapped both arms around her waist, teeth nipping at her ear. “Guess we’ll get to spend more money on that honeymoon!”

She play fought him off, batting her manicured nails against his sweater. When the giggles subsided, they both turned to Wren. Her smile was so forced they could see her gums. “Well, I think that’s everything I need. Do you have any questions for me?”

 _Yeah, what’s the name of your arms dealer client?_ But Melinda just held her tongue, choosing instead to sip her water. A team was searching her office now, ransacking her files and disk drives looking for a name, an address, perhaps even a bank account. Whilst Melinda would have preferred to be on the team doing the searching, they had provided a vital role as distraction. She was starting to think that she and Phil could have a successful career as con men if SHIELD ever fell through.

“You know,” Phil said, squeezing Melinda’s shoulder as he pressed her into his chest. “I think we’re good.”

 _“Wonderful,”_ Wren said, getting to her feet. “I’ll be in touch in a few days and we can begin talking about wedding venues. I’ll make sure to check the Plaza.” She shook both their hands. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I’m very much looking forward to helping you plan your special day.”

Phil helped Melinda up as they escorted their guest to the front door. As they passed, Melinda pressed her thumb against the device that would signal SHIELD that Wren was leaving. The search team would have twenty minutes – longer if SHIELD fabricated traffic – to put Wren’s office back to how it used to be and get the hell out of dodge. As they both waved farewell to Wren, Melinda hoped that they’d found the information they needed. If not, this afternoon escape would become their reality until they did.

Thankfully with their part of the operation over, they could both relax. Melinda kicked off her heels, collapsing back against the couch as the adrenalin finally overwhelmed her. She turned to Phil, watched as he tugged off his sweater and scratched around his collar and wrists. He unbuttoned the top two buttons before joining her on the sofa. There were two cold beers in the fridge. They’d drink them when they had confirmation that the operation was complete.

“Not bad for our first real undercover mission, huh?” Phil said; his voice grating as the adrenalin took him too. “You don’t think we oversold it too much, do you?”

Melinda shook her head. “No, I think we were great. You especially. Was I-“

“ _Amazing._ ” Phil grinned. “You reminded me of every sophisticated, stuck up sorority girl who turned me down in college.”

Melinda snorted. “And you reminded me of every rich kid who thought daddy’s money could buy their hand up my skirt.”

“You punch them in the face?” She nodded. Phil grinned. “ _Good_. You think they’ve found the info?”  

“I hope so.” Melinda stood up from the sofa, using the armchair as an anchor as she rolled down her panty hose. Everything felt sticky and uncomfortable. “I can’t dress like this for the next eight months. And planning a wedding?” She made a face.

Phil chuckled, leaning back comfortably against the couch. “I don’t know, wedding planning sounds a lot more fun than an aerial assault on a heavily armed compound.”

Melinda snorted. “Speak for yourself. You’re not the one who’ll have to decide on the flowers, or go _dress shopping._ ”

“True. But I still think it would be kind of fun. You don’t ever think about your own wedding?”

“I don’t intend to get married.” Melinda slipped her hands into her hair; fingers tugging at the pins keeping her elaborate style in place. “I don’t see the point.”

“You don’t?”

Her fingers yanked at a stubborn pin, teeth biting down as she struggled to get it out. “Not at all. You either marry another spy, and end up broken hearted when they wind up dead; or you marry a civilian and break their heart when you can only give them half of yourself.” Her hands stilled in her hair as she thought about the arguments she’d heard between her mother and father as a child; her mother’s parting words after she brought Phil home for the first time. Bones could heal. Hearts not so much.

“Here, let me help.”

Phil’s fingers pressed against hers, before she felt the weight of them in her hair. They deftly moved across her scalp, teasing out the pins and depositing them on the table beside them. She felt his hands tremble as he took out the last few pins before running his fingers through her dark hair. Melinda bit her bottom lip, trying not to concentrate on how good it felt to be touched. They’d been keeping things so professional, so within the boundaries both of them had established after graduation. She hadn’t realised how much she missed it. 

“I’ve missed you,” Phil said, his lips lingering against her earlobe.

Melinda swallowed, glancing upwards to catch the intense stare of her partner. “We’ve practically been inseparable since graduation. We had breakfast two days ago.”

“Not what I meant.” Phil bowed his head, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. “I really enjoyed today. I’m sorry you didn’t.”

Phil pulled away, heading for the kitchen and the two cold beers they’d stashed in the fridge. Melinda stood, rooted to the spot, as she watched her partner. She didn’t enjoy the prospect of planning a wedding. She didn’t enjoy the pencil skirt or the heels or the pearls currently choking her. She _loathed_ all the _smiling._ But for a moment, _just a moment,_ she had enjoyed the way his lips pressed to hers. The feel of his hand against her back. His smile, sincere and unyielding.

 _I’ve missed you too._  


End file.
